"The moon was full upon your face, and did St.
Auban chance to look out, he must have seen you." I followed the indication of his thumb, and noted the lighted window to which he pointed.

A moment later he was gone, and as I joined Michelot, I chuckled softly to myself.
For two hours and more I sat in the shrubbery, conversing in whispers with Michelot, and watching the lights in the chateau die out one by one, until St.Auban's window, which opened on to the terrace balcony, was the only one that was not wrapt in darkness.
I waited a little while longer, then rising I cautiously made a tour of inspection.

Peace reigned everywhere, and the only sign of life was the sentry, who with musket on shoulder paced in front of the main entrance, a silent testimony of St.Auban's mistrust of the Blaisois and of his fears of a possible surprise.
Satisfied that everyone slept I retraced my steps to the shrubbery where Michelot awaited me, watching the square of light, and after exchanging word with him, I again stepped forth.
When I was half way across the intervening space of garden, treading with infinite precaution, a dark shadow obscured the window, which a second later was thrown open.

Crouching hastily behind a boxwood hedge, I watched St.Auban--for I guessed that he it was--as he leaned out and gazed skywards.
For a little while he remained there, then he withdrew, leaving the casement open, and presently I caught the grating of a chair on the parquet floor within.

If ever the gods favoured mortal, they favoured me at that moment.
Stealthily as a cat I sprang towards the terrace, the steps to which I climbed on hands and knees.